


Tomorrow and Tomorrow

by JulianGreystoke



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Comfort, Death, Friendship, Literature, Macbeth - Freeform, Sad, Sorrow, dying, friends - Freeform, william shakespeare - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulianGreystoke/pseuds/JulianGreystoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane and Shepard have a meeting of the minds that only two warriors can share, with a little help from the bard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tomorrow and Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, a way to combine my love of Mass Effect with my love for The Bard!

Shepard leaned back, looking up from her book to gaze at the stars which twinkled through the big windows before which she sat. The ship, her ship, was at rest. Normandy slumbered peacefully, humming gently to itself. Joker was at the party, as were the rest of her crew. There was a lot to celebrate. Even as she looked at the stars and listened to the ship's quiet melody, her mind kept going back. It had been one hell of a ride and she kept flashing back there. She reached for her glass of water and her hand shook so badly that she had to give up and put the glass back down or risk spilling all over herself.

There was a mechanical hissing sound as the door behind her slid open. She turned, a little surprised at who she saw. “Thane,” she spoke as though he didn't know his own name and she was identifying him.

He ignored her brief awkwardness, striding a few steps into the room, hands clasped officially behind his back. “You're missing quite a party,” he said.

“I know,” she raised her book slightly, “I can't take too much celebration before I need some quiet. Being a commander you have to take your alone time whenever you can steal it.”

“Indeed, Shepard,” Thane nodded.

“Please, Thane, I've told you a thousand times; call me Val.” She gestured for him to sit across from her. “So, what am I missing?”

“Well, Val, Mordin is quite intoxicated, which is more than a little amusing. However, he has not stopped talking for over and hour. For a while I had Legion record what he was saying, in case it was anything of importance, but it turns out he's reciting lines from a play of some kind.”

Shepard laughed. She was a little unpracticed at laughing, not getting the chance to do it very often. “What else?” she leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

Thane chuckled, folding his hands in the way he so often did, one hand atop the other. “It seems that Garrus and Tali have rigged some sort of machine that you sing along with.”

“Ah,” Shepard felt a smile crease her cheeks, still unused to mirth. “On my family's ship we called it karaoke. We had entire events devoted to it at frequent intervals.”

“Interesting,” Thane raised the scale above his right eye. “I do not believe they are doing it correctly. When I left they were well into a rendition of an Elcor funeral dirge. I had to depart before it became too depressing.”

“Oh dear!” Shepard laughed loudly this time, and he laughed with her. When they finished both sat, wiping tears of mirth from their eyes, looking at one another. She considered his face, and he hers. Two warriors who had seen a lifetime of hardships. Two friends having a chat.

“What are you reading?” Thane asked after they had sat in contemplative silence for over a minute.

“Shakespeare,” Shepard held up the book. “He's a human playwright from a very long time ago. Still, I can't seem to shake his words and ideas. This play is Henry V, about a warrior, a leader, who takes his people to war. I was just reading a scene about him convincing his disheartened troops to attack a city one last time.”

“Is this your favorite?” he asked as she handed him the heavy book and he flipped through the pages.

“No,” she admitted. “This one is my favorite,” she held up a smaller play, also passing it across to her friend. “Macbeth. In it a mighty warrior is told he'll be king one day and he does everything he can to make the prediction true. In the end his own ambition undoes him.”

“Interesting,” Thane gave her a long look, and she felt slightly exposed, like he could see right through her. “The mission today went very well.”

Shepard wasn't ready for that. She jumped as his words brought memories flooding back into her mind. Dark corridors, monstrous creatures, her crew in mortal danger at every turn. Her hands began to shake again and she clasped them together to keep them steady. “I'm glad everyone made it out alright,” she said, her words were deliberate, rehearsed.

“It was hell in there,” Thane muttered, again surprising her. “There were numerous times when I thought we were going to be killed.”

“I shouldn't have put you all in danger like that,” Shepard said, unable to stop the words spilling from her lips.

Thane stood, crossed the space between them in three quick strides, and squatted in front of her. He placed both his hands over hers, so she could no longer see them shaking, and looking up into her eyes. “As our leader, we would follow you anywhere. As our friend, we would follow you further.”

She sat for a long moment, unable to say anything. Twice her lips moved, as if they knew she should reply, but no words came. Thane stood and walked slowly back to his chair. He picked up the script he had set there when he had moved to comfort her. “I suppose people think that the nice thing about knowing you're dying, is that you do not fear death. It's a lie you know?”

Shepard looked up then, feeling a deep sadness for her friend. Their bond had grown strong over the time he had spent on this mission with her. They'd battled side by side so many times. He'd saved her life countless times, and she his. “I've always had a sense...a sense that this isn't over yet.”

“What do you mean?” Thane asked, sitting down and gently opening the pages, like a flower unfolding in his hands.

“This whole thing with the Reapers. It's not over. You know that you are going to die, and do it before you have fulfilled all you could in your life. So do I. I thought that perhaps this mission...but now I know my time is still to come. This can't be the end. The Reapers will come, and they will kill me.”

Thane said nothing, instead he merely nodded, then cast his eyes down to the page and read the passage to himself, before he looked back up to her. “It doesn't mean you're not afraid, does it?”

“No,” she said. “It does not.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” she raised an eyebrow slightly, looking across at her friend. He was squinting at the pages, as if trying very hard to understand.

“This passage,” he held the book towards her so she could see. “Is all human writing like this?”

“No,” she let her eyes caress the familiar words before Thane brought the book back into his lap. “Read it?” she asked.

Thane hesitated, scanning the words as though imaging how they would best be spoken.   
“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,  
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,  
To the last syllable of recorded time;  
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools  
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!  
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,  
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,  
And then is heard no more. It is a tale  
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,  
Signifying nothing.”

The two friends sat together, listening to the ship hum gently. Watching the stars. Both knew the words of a long dead, human bard, spoke to them as clearly as if someone had just invented them for their exact situation. The rest of the crew could not know exactly what they, the dying, could. That each tomorrow was a blessing, and a falsehood, but they would live them all until their allotted time. Shepard knew that anyone but Thane would have scoffed at her self proclaimed prophesy, but one dying man knows another.

Locked in mutual fate the two met each other's gaze again and they both smiled the unpracticed smile of the warrior. Then they stood, turning to walk shoulder to shoulder, back out to rejoin the party.


	2. What Men Dare

Chapter 2  
What Men Dare

Shepard walked slowly from the long hallway and into the lobby of Huerta Memorial. Her heart felt heavy and her mind was buzzing like the Normandy's drive core. She'd just spoken with Kaiden and it was tearing her up inside to see him so badly injured. She'd been with him. She'd been right there and he's almost died. Certainly she had shot his attacker, then picked Kaiden up and carried him to the shuttle on her own shoulders, plus routinely visited him in the hospital, but it never felt like enough. It didn't help that she hated hospitals. They reminded her of her own mortality, and when she though of that she remembered that her death was looming, ever larger, in her future. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she knew.

She stopped at a gift kiosk and scrolled through the options on the screen. She'd gotten Kaiden some nice alcohol, which was all she could think of. She hadn't known the man for over two years so the beverage was a safe gift. How she scanned the selections again and her eyes were caught by a certain option. There were a few books for sale and she knew one all too well. She touched a few buttons and the machine spat out her gift, not unlike a soda from an old, earth style vending machine. Tucking her purchase under her arm, intent on finding a quiet corner of the citadel to enjoy, she almost missed seeing him.

Had he not been in motion she would not have noticed him at all. Her soldier's instinct kicked in as her peripheral vision alerted her to possibly aggressive movement. Her hand darted towards her back for a gun she wasn't wearing, but she wouldn'tt have needed it.

“Commander Shepard! Val!” he corrected himself, striding towards her, his dark eyes alight with pleasure. He held open his arms for a hug, which she eagerly returned. “When I heard earth was under attack I tried to call,” he said in a slightly distressed voice, “I never got through.”

She pulled back from the hug, though their hands were still clasped together. She was so relieved to see him, of all people. How did he always know when she most needed a friend? “Thane,” even saying his name made her feel more like she was at home, back on the Normandy with her crew around her. “Good to see you're staying in shape,” she said, in reference to the motions he had been making moments before. She smiled slightly to herself. Thane would be shadow boxing.

He smiled, finally taking his hands from hers as he moved to sit down, motioning Shepard to sit across from him. “My disease kills slowly. With enough care and a healthy lifestyle it can be delayed for a few years. Of course, my allotted time has come and gone. Now I exercise because it pleases me.” he gave her a faint smile. “But what are you doing here?” he asked, a tone on concern edging into his voice.

She reassured him that she was not injured or ill as she took her seat across from him. A movement which reminded her very strongly of the night she and he had sat together in the observation lounge on the Normandy. She briefly explained about Kaiden, and Thane nodded his understanding. “I will help how I can,” he reassured her, “as long as he is here, consider him under my protection.”

“I appreciate it Thane,” She smiled at him, then looked down again, unsure. She knew all too well why Thane was at the hospital and she didn't want to think about it. His closeness to his own, inevitable end, only made fresh the notion of her own.

He must have seen this written on her features because his gaze became sympathetic. He knew she would not be eager to talk about this, however. Instead he questioned her, “Val, what did you buy at the kiosk?” he motioned towards the crisp, new book she held, absentmindedly, in her lap.

“Guess,” she gave him a crooked smile and held up her purchase.

“Ah,” he smiled too, though now he seemed less used to the expression than he had been before. Still, his expression was knowing. “Macbeth?”

“Of course,” she chuckled. “I was going to go find someplace to read it, but then I saw my favorite drell fighting all alone.”

“My enemies have less form than they used to,” Thane admitted with a small laugh that turned into a cough.

Shepard leaned forward slightly, her own brow creasing with concern. He waved vaguely towards her with one hand, a dismissive motion. “Kepral's syndrome has put most of my plans on hold,” he said when his coughing had subsided. “But I would never let it keep me from a chat with my good friend.”

She asked the question that she hadn't dared to only moments before, but suddenly she felt she had to know. “Do you know how much time you have left?” her voice caught slightly in her throat, her mind flashing back for a split second to the 'suicide mission' she had put her crew through. Many horrible memories were added to it, but that was the time she had felt closest to death.

Thane answered her question a little evasively. “I've been to several doctors. My favorite gave me three months to live...nine months ago,” there was a flash, in his expression, of the old soldier that he was. Defiant to the very last. Shepard knew Thane would never allow himself to be dictated by odds and probabilities. “It's freeing to find no requirements placed on me. No responsibilities, no fears. It's a good end to a life.”

Shepard watched his face with the practiced eye of a fellow soldier. She knew he was lying, at least in part, but she wasn't sure about which part.

“What happened to you, Val?” he asked then, his tone becoming a little sharper. “I've been trying to keep in contact with you on the extranet, but after you went to earth you seemed to disappear off the radar.”

She lowered her head slightly, but didn't look away from his stern face. It was a fatherly gaze, she realized with a slight smile. Sometimes she forget that he was a father as well as a warrior. “They were closely monitoring me. I didn't dare contact you in case you didn't want people to discover I knew how to reach you.”

Thane nodded, approving of her explanation. Then he winced, leaning forward he rubbed a hand against his chest. “Thane?” Shepard sat forward, her brow creasing again, this time with concern. She had a permanent mark between her eyes from years of scowling at her men when they disobeyed, or at enemies who thought they stood a chance against her men.

He gritted his teeth, breathing unevenly. She left her chair and squatted in front of him, her hands on his knees, looking up into his face. He made as if to wave her off again, then seemed to change his mind and let her remain until he had control of his breathing again. Sitting back once more he nodded at her. She moved quietly back to her own chair, still watching him as she would watch a wounded soldier under her command. “I am sorry you had to see that, Val,” Thane said, shaking his head slightly.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked uncertainly, ready to cross the space between them again in a heartbeat, should her friend need her support.

“At times,” he admitted, “The oxygen transfer proteins don't form correctly. The human equivalent would be hemoglobin. As a result my blood is low in oxygen. No matter how much I breath in I get tingling, numbness...and that is the best of it. As for my brain, I cannot track the damage. I just experience dizziness from time to time.”

“Oh, Thane, I'm so sorry.”

“Valkyrie,” he fixed her with a very firm gaze that almost made her stand up and salute. “I am not dying this second! Save your sympathy for someone in need of it. I am at peace with my end.” Then his voice, and expression, softened again. “I sense that you are not.”

Shepard breathed in slowly, uncertainly. “I know it's coming. Like I told you when we last spoke of these things. The trouble is, the more I do the less I am ready for it. Aren't you supposed to grow more used to the idea of your death instead of less?”

“Perhaps,” Thane tilted his head slightly. “But you're happy now, Val.”

“Happy?! The Reapers are attacking my home world, and the home worlds of so many other races! The places you and I grew up could be lifeless, smoking craters in a matter of a few years. Why would that make me happy?” her voice had been rising, and some of the hospital staff were looking pointedly in her direction. She snapped her lips shut, glaring across at Thane.

For his part the drell was giving her the most infuriating smile. “I know you, Val. You're happiest when the odds are against you. It's easy for you to handle your oncoming death when you don't feel like everyone needs you. You just can't let people down. You believe that, if you die, the others who need you will also be killed.”

Shepard opened her mouth, then shut it again. He was right and she knew it. He had her pegged. Better even than Joker did, and that was saying something because the pilot had been with her from the very beginning. He knew that he'd hit on it and kept grinning, looking a little like the lizard that swallowed the canary. “Stop it,” she scolded, good-naturedly.

“Now that we have you all sorted out, what shall we talk about next?” Thane asked, a little smugly. His eyes drifted to the book in her hands. “Read to me?”

She smiled again, a genuine, free smile that she reserved for special occasions. She flipped through the pages of her favorite play, determined to let the bard tell her when to stop. Her fingers caught the rushing paper and she looked down, reading what she saw there. Thane leaned back comfortably, eyes partially closed, listening to his dear friend read. 

“What men dare, I dare:  
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,  
The armed rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,-  
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves  
Shall never tremble. “


	3. A Walking Shadow

Chapter 3  
A Walking Shadow

“Garrus!” Shepard barked, as though his name were an order. The turian understood, whipping his sniper rifle from his back and sighting through the scope. “Can't get a clean shot,” he snarled frustratedly.

“Dammit,” Shepard gritted her teeth, also trying to aim her weapon at the fast moving target. The mysterious assassin was fast, but Thane was too. The drell may have been dying, but he didn't show it as he matched his foe blow for blow and step for step. However, the constant, frenzied movement made it impossible for Shepard to fire without the risk of hitting her friend.

Shepard could not help but be impressed as Thane moved flawlessly from a block, to a punch, to a shot with his own pistol. You could never tell to look at him that he was on death's door, that was for certain. He seemed absolutely alive and dancing like fire across the limited battlefield, instead of sitting like a faintly glowing ember as she had seen him before in the hospital.

Then Thane had him. The assassin was down and Thane stood ready, pistol pointed. She waited that split second for the shot. Thane could easily kill the strange attacker in a heartbeat now. But he didn't, and Shepard knew why. She hadn't known only seconds before, but as the drell moved towards the assassin, instead of firing, she understood. The set of his shoulders, the power behind his stride, it all told her. Thane had been lying when she had visited him in Huerta Memorial. She had known it then, but she was not sure what he had been dishonest about. “No fears, no desires,” he had said. He had told her it was freeing. Thane was a warrior, as she was. He could never live out his last moments coughing away his life force. This was what he truly wanted.

She knew it, even as the mysterious assassin's sword went through her friend's body. “Thane!” she shouted, taking a quick succession of shots at the attacker, even as he hastily fled.

She followed, still firing. She felt her weapon, dangerously close to overheating, burn, even through her glove, but she didn't care. He leaped out a window onto the stairs below and she ran after him, hatred searing from her like the heat from her gun. Only when he jumped onto the roof of a conveniently positioned car and flew out of sight did she stop pulling the trigger. As she ejected the steaming heat clip she realized that someone else was firing too. She turned to see Thane, leaning heavily against the wall, gun aimed towards the receding dot that was the assassin's getaway vehicle.

He seemed to realize the target was well away and he sagged, sliding down the wall to a sitting position. She sprinted back to him, skidding to her knees beside him, eyes already taking in the through-and-through stomach wound. For a human that would spell a slow and painful death. She was not sure what it meant for a drell, but it certainly could not be good. “How bad is it?” she asked as her team rushed up to join them.

“I have time,” muttered Thane, head lolling against the wall, “catch him.”

“Liara!” Shepard shouted to her asari companion. She needn't have yelled as her friend was already at her side.

“Yes, Shepard?” Liara said, kneeling with them.

“Stay with him! Do you understand?!” Normally she would have left Garrus. The turian could have carried the injured drell to the hospital, but she knew she needed his sniping skills for her hunt.

“I understand,” said Liara, certainly.

“Pressure on the wound, both sides!” Shepard said, her voice the firm bark of a military commander.

Garrus, taking his cue, rushed off to find them a car that he could hijack, as Shepard left Liara further instructions. “Call Bailey. Get someone here from the hospital. You get him help, but don't leave him alone.” Liara nodded her understanding, already applying pressure to the bleeding wounds with cloth she had hastily torn from her own clothing.

Then Shepard moved to kneel in front of Thane. She took his head gently in both hands, fixing his eyes on hers, “I will be back for you, Thane. Do you hear me? I'm coming back!”

Thane swallowed hard, meeting her eyes steelily. “I understand, Val. Now go.”

She departed very unwillingly. As a military commander she had to prioritize, but as Thane's friend it took everything she had to leave his side. Still she jumped into the car Garrus had pulled up without looking back. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Killing the assassin.

Shots rang out across the citadel. Battles were won and lost, and in the end, a supposed diplomat lay dead, but the assassin did not. When Shepard rejoined Liara the asari told her that Thane had been taken to the hospital. “Bailey informed me he was in for surgery. He said there were complications due to the blood loss,” Liara reported, “The C-sec officer wants to speak with you when you have the chance.”

“Right,” Shepard said, but her mind had focused on Thane. Still alive. Well, he was a fighter. She didn't have to tell her team where she was going, or that she would go alone. They knew her. They were also her trusted friends, even if, at the moment, her mind was only on one.

She made it to the hospital in record time. The place was in triage mode after the brief citadel siege. Shepard stepped respectfully around doctors as they struggled to cope with the incoming wounded. She knew where the intensive care rooms were. Kaiden had been there not long before. She was about to march right into the room when a doctor stayed her course, inquiring brusquely who she was looking for.

“I'm looking for a drell named Thane Krios.” she said, trying to keep her voice level. Still the picture of a military commander there to see a solider injured on her watch.

“Well, we have a drell, but not under that name.”

Stupid! How idiotic could she be? Using his real name? Inwardly she berated herself, but outwardly her expression was steady. “He was injured, a stab wound. He's a regular patient here.”

The doctor's expression softened, “It's alright, it's alright,” he said, holding up a hand in a calming gesture. He began to lead her towards the room, “The doctors were able to repair a lot of the trauma. However mister...uhm...Krios, is in the final stages of Kepral's Syndrome. At it's worst, Kepral's Syndrome interferes with the blood's ability to carry oxygen. And he lost a lot of blood. They've given him transfusions, but there's a very limited supply of drell blood on the citadel.”

Shepard felt her mind spark into action. A task! Something she could do to help. “I'll get more. What's his blood type?” she asked, perhaps a little too sharply.

“Only one other drell on the station is a match,” the doctor explained, “and that drell is in with him now. We did all we could to help him through surgery, but his body can't replace the lost blood with new cells. Too much shock. His son, Kolyat... he's in there saying his goodbyes. You might want to say yours.”

Shepard suddenly felt as though it had been she who had taken the sword to the gut. Death came with the territory if you were a soldier. Certainly she'd seen people die. She'd held men in her arms while they gasped out their last breaths. But that was on the battle field, with heat and the smell of weapon smoke. There was a rightness to that death. Her feet barely moved her towards the hospital room.

The doors slid open to reveal the two drell. Kolyat stood beside his father's bed, hands clasped over those of his parent. He looked up when Shepard entered. He let Thane's hand go as he turned to greet her. Kolyat explained briefly that he had come to donate blood, though she already knew this to be true. The young drell had been rekindling a relationship with his estranged parents ever since Shepard had helped Thane locate him. Kolyat's voice was quiet and pained as he gestured toward the figure on the bed. “He asked me to take off his oxygen mask so he could be comfortable. I don't think it will be very long.”

“Your father helped me save a lot of lives. I'd like to be here,” Shepard said, once again sounding more like a commander and less like a friend, desperate to see another before he was gone.

Kolyat nodded, and stepped aside. Before she even knew she was moving Shepard was beside Thane, his hand wrapped in both of hers. He breathed with difficulty, looking up at her with surprisingly clear eyes. “Commander...” he winced, “I'm, afraid I won't be joining you again.”

“Thane,” Shepard warned, trying to affect a playful tone as tears threatened in her eyes. “I've told you a thousand times to call me Val.”

He smiled faintly. “I am sorry, Val.” Then a slightly smug expression came over his features, “that assassin should be embarrassed. A terminally ill drell stopped him from reaching his target.”

She squeezed his hand, unable to stop herself from smiling, even as she blinked a tear free from her eye. It fell, unheeded, on the bed beside him. “I'll pass the word along,” she said, a little shakily.

Thane was squeezing her hand now, and she knew he was resisting the pain. She tried to think about all those men and woman she had seen die in battle. She was a soldier. A warrior. That instinct kicked in. She held his hand firmly and leaned forward slightly so it was easy for him to focus on her eyes. Her blue eyes, which remained locked on his, as if she might hold him there if she could only keep from blinking. She knew, from harsh experience, that a dying man would feel safer if he had something, some one, to hold on to and a face to look at. She could be that for Thane. Her tears were gone. He was her knew mission.

His muscles tensed and she held firm as he struggled to force words past his lips. “There's something I must do before it gets worse. I must--” He was caught off guard by a fit on coughing, curling slightly as he struggled for breath. Shepard freed one hand and supported his head until he was able to lay it back again. Her other hand was still curled firmly around his. His breathing calmed for a moment, he spoke, eyes still locked on Shepard's. “Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand--” once again coughing overtook him. Shepard felt his grip loosen on hers but she did not let go. This fit was worse than the last and Shepard was hard pressed to continue her mission. To be the rock on which her dying friend could anchor.

Kolyat, who stood at Thane's other side, took up the prayer, finishing it. Thane drug in a rasping breath, turning to look fondly at his son. Shepard saw the pride of a father in her friend's eyes. “Kolyat, you speak as the priests do,” Thane's voice was getting weaker, “you have been spending time with them?”

Kolyat nodded, his face strained. He walked over to stand beside Shepard, pulling a small book from his pocket. “I brought a prayer book. Would you like to join me?”

“Wait,” Thane squeezed Shepard's hand. She looked back at him, still as steady as ever. “Wait, Kolyat. The time for prayers will come, but at this moment--” He tensed once more and Shepard felt a stab of sorrow rip through her, but of course, she did not show it. Dragging in another breath, Thane went on, “Val...read to me?”

She nodded. Still not freeing her hand from his, she fumbled in her own pocket and freed the small, soft-cover copy of her favorite book, which she had bought not long before at the hospital's gift kiosk. She thumbed through the already well worn pages to the one she always had dogeared. Her favorite speech, and one that spoke to her, and to Thane. Two warriors who both knew it was their fate to die before they grew old. Shepard only hoped that she could die facing an enemy in battle, as Thane had wanted to do himself. She knew why he had fought the assassin. There was no life, or death, for either of them, but in combat. Fighting to save lives, save loved ones, to save the galaxy.

Shepard looked down at the pages and realized that she was crying again. How had she failed to notice the tears that now fell onto the pages of the book? She felt Thane squeeze her hand again, and hold his grip firm. She read, as strongly as any soldier on the front lines, even as tears tumbled from her eyes.

“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,  
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,  
To the last syllable of recorded time;  
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools  
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!  
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,  
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,  
And then is heard no more. It is a tale  
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,  
Signifying nothing.”

Even as she read the words, and Thane slowly turned to look away from her, not wanting to let her see his life leave him This time she understood the words anew. Life may have been walking shadow, but it did not “signify nothing”. Her life meant something as long as she lived it, and she could die, in a year, in a week, tomorrow, knowing that she would do it fighting. She knew Thane was gone, but she leaned closer to whisper to him anyway, “goodbye, my dear friend. Your memory will live on, in me. We fight together, and you won't be alone for long.”


End file.
